Softest parts of her

Tag: lust

I play on the notion that there’s a possibility something more can be created. Something more can be given. Something else can be tasted. Call me a fool for falling for my lover, it phases me none. The only thing we ever want to accomplish is to feel alive, to feel that gust of wind… Read More Letters to My Lover – Diary entry: 11/3/17

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Some mornings waking up next to you would fulfill my ultimate dream of waking up in a field of flowers. The softness of your skin imitating flower petals and the warmth of morning kisses remind me of the sun. The perfections of the morning glory you would give me even though my face is still… Read More Diary entry: 12/4/17

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It’s painful. The aching and crying and the drinking. The drinking is the worst. I crave it at this point. It helps numb the heart. Helps with moving through each day. My favorite is a sweet but somewhat dry red wine. Pair that with some stuffed grape leaves, drenched in olive oil and lounge seductively… Read More Diary entry: 11/30/17

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It’s hard not write about you. To you. For you. When you’re all I think about. My ears are ringing in hopes that my name is leaving your lips. Nothing more than a fantasy at this point. That’s all I do sometimes during the busy hours of the day, my mind fills itself with images… Read More Diary entry: 12/1/17

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If we continue on, you understand what we become? Resorting to only the physical will just be an addition to this. The excitement that rushes through me in wait of experiencing you in that light. You’re already so beautiful and raw, to be able to have so much more, I am in awe of what… Read More Diary entry: 11/28/17

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I’ll always wonder what it must be like to be with someone like you. In totality. In completeness. To belong. To become. To fulfill you and only you. To sleep across your chest at night and not have worries of separation over the next few days, I’ll always wonder. I fill with intense jealousy at… Read More Diary entry: 11/30/17

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Model information: https://www.instagram.com/p/BVdAcyDFgU9/ Burying my face in the bodies of other lovers in my futile attempts to forget you. Giving them pieces of me that are undeniably meant for you. I only want to forget the sensation but you are embedded in my flesh. Embedded in the memory of me. I wear you. Taste you.… Read More The misery of absence

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Sunday morning blues. I dreamed of you last night. Reminiscing on conversations between breast and lips. I forget the actual language you speak, it’s on the tip of my tongue the way you wore me that night. It’s some island in the Caribbean, but the importance is irrelevant at this time. The bed is empty… Read More Diary entry: 9/23/17

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Think it was a quarter to three this morning, trying to get ready for work, the usual routine to begin a Saturday. Body barely able to maneuver itself from the left side of the bed. The Tiffany grey velvet chaise in the corner sitting there appearing lonely, empty. The lighting was giving it a soft… Read More Love letters from the Tormented

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It’s been jazz all evening. The skies changed and the tempo stayed the same. Deep melodies playing from a third story apartment with the balcony doors wide open. I guess I’m tryna erase a few memories tonight. Do you remember that movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? Certain scenes replay themselves and I can’t… Read More Diary entry: 10/16/17

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Because I alone am not able to replicate your abilities nor your performance, I am left in agony tonight. Why do you give so much when we’re engaged? Is there something that the lips are forbidden to say? Must I continue to read what’s written against my thighs? I want to be nothing more than… Read More Diary entry: 10/15/17

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Photographer: Michel Perez I just need to stop. Un-learn the desire to want, to want for more. Detaching from the notion that the sweat accumulating between sheets somehow correlates to the intensity of more than lust. We are no more than our selfishness. No more than the flesh we wear. We are no more my… Read More Diary entry: 10/11/17

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Photo information: Anais Mali in “Bienvenida, Cuba” by Benny Horne for Vogue Spain, March 2016. Anything I can do to keep my mind off of it. Working overtime. Writing overtime. Drinking till I can’t hold back. Drinking till my words mean more to me than ever so I bite down to keep them from spilling.… Read More Diary entry: 10/10/17

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It’s warm tonight. Bare feet against the heated pavement. I love watching the sunset from the third floor. Nothing but a t-shirt that barely covers my breast and cheeky boy shorts on this evening. Maybe a few stars joining in on this show. I feel good. I feel full. I feel sexy again. And it’s… Read More Diary entry:10/9/17

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Can we still call it being selfish or blaming it on just poor behavior on our parts? When do we begin to own all that we are doing? Laying across your chest, listening to the melodies your body conducts, I feel alive. The pulsing. The throbbing and moving of a heart I want to hold.… Read More Diary entry: 10/8/17